


Damnably Unbecoming

by cuddlesome



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Canon Compliant, F/M, Other, Oviposition, Porn With Plot, Rey is so thirsty someone needs to get her some Capri Sun™, Tentacle Dick, That's Not How The Force Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:18:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17116904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Despite negotiating with the Resistance so that he can marry Rey the second she sets foot on-board his ship, Kylo is reluctant to have sex with her. Cue Rey trying her best to seduce him and in the process discovering his unusual reproductive anatomy.





	Damnably Unbecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [persimonne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persimonne/gifts).



> Went with this prompt--"Arranged marriage (Canonverse or any kind of AU is okay): Rey accepts to marry Kylo Ren for political reasons, but he refuses to have sex with her during their wedding night. Thirsty!Rey begins a heavy courtship and he finally surrenders: she discovers that he is not what he seems... Leaving this open. I'm okay with cryptids, oviposition, unusual genitals, scars, tattoos, robotic parts, etc."
> 
> I really hope you like it persimonne!! (｡´∀｀)ﾉ

 

Rey doesn’t know the proper rules of conduct for greeting one’s fiancé. C-3PO hadn’t covered that in his brief stint of trying to teach her etiquette. He’d mostly succeeded in getting her to use cutlery properly, and that wasn’t saying much.

 

To say that Rey has been living under a rock most of her life isn’t much of an exaggeration. Learning about the traditions associated with being betrothed ranked pretty low in her list of priorities up until now, besides. She contemplates the issue for the first time as a stormtrooper takes hold of her upper arm to lead her out of the transport.

 

The armada of stormtroopers gathered inside the belly of the _Finalizer_ to greet her is excessive but unsurprising. No doubt the First Order thinks she’s going to try something underhanded. If Poe had had his way, she would have. But no, there will not be any rebel tricks today.

 

Trading away a strong ally, the last Jedi, a woman wanted for murder of their last supreme leader, no less, in exchange for Hays Minor, a planet all but destroyed with weapons testing, probably didn’t seem like a very generous trade to the First Order when they presented it. It hadn’t seemed that way to the Resistance, either, but once Rey saw the stipulations of the trade she agreed. No amount of insistence to the contrary from her friends or the general could change her mind.

 

Hays Minor was bound to be full of Resistance sympathizers after all of the abuse that they suffered at the hands of the First Order. The planet offered more manpower than a single woman, even a Force-sensitive one, ever could. That was what she said in order to back up her decision to allow herself to be traded away.

 

Rey only pretended to be disgusted by the most prominent condition of the trade: following her arrival at the First Order’s flagship, she would be married to Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

 

In reality she thought that perhaps marital status would allow her an opportunity to coerce him back to the light as she believed she’d been so close to doing before. For the betterment of the galaxy.

 

And… a more self-serving part of her wants to be with Ben.

 

She is sure that other Resistance fighters thought that she was making a brave sacrifice, giving herself up to be partnered with a horrible monster (not so long ago, she would have thought the same thing). She’d heard absurd stories about him on-board the _Falcon._ Ones involving sharp teeth sometimes and tentacles others and an appetite for human flesh always, as if the First Order is ruled by a rathar.

 

There are so many truly horrible things about Kylo Ren, Rey thought, there’s no need to make up more.

 

The ink-black garbs of the commanding officers are easy to pick out amongst the blanket of white armor studded with the occasional officer’s gray. She fixes her gaze on her husband-to-be and is ashamed at the excitement that rises in her chest.

 

It comes crashing down when Rey reaches out with a tendril of the Force and senses a conflicting tirade of emotions pouring forth from Kylo. She both mentally and physically flinches back, causing the stormtrooper escorting her to stumble. The ’trooper straightens with a huff of static through her vocoder.

 

“Now is a little late to be getting cold feet, lady,” the stormtrooper says in a low voice as she adjusts her grip on Rey’s arm and pulls her forward again. “But I get it. I wouldn’t want to be married to that beast, either.”

 

Rey looks at Kylo again. At first she attributes the chaos bubbling beneath the surface of his mind and the tension in his posture to anger. Not an illogical conclusion when it comes to Kylo Ren. He has one hand balled up in front of him and the other squeezed tight around it. His face is set in its customary moue.

 

It only occurs to Rey as she gets closer that she realizes that he may be overwhelmed at her presence again after so many months apart. No one ever claimed that Kylo Ren had a tight rein on his feelings. When Rey reaches out again she detects a sense of anxiety flowing forth above all else.

 

The supreme leader is nervous. Nervous as a schoolboy on his first date. They’d sort of skipped over that part of courting, unless slaughtering the praetorian guards together counted.

 

Meanwhile, Rey appears composed as she is marched the last bit of distance towards him, but she’s still struggling about what to do or say when they are finally together. Saying nothing is probably the best option, but she can’t just stand there as she’s presented to him like a successfully delivered package.

 

Giving the First Order’s customary salute is tacky and will probably be misconstrued as mockery. Bowing the head or at the waist feels like admitting defeat. She considers extending her hand, but no, that gesture has secret intimacy for them. Most of these gestures involve her hands in some capacity, anyway, and they are currently bound with stun cuffs.

 

Her decision for something appropriate, by her calculations, anyway, is decided once she’s close.

 

The trooper releases her a few feet back, leaving it up to Rey to close the distance. As soon as she’s standing right before Kylo, she gets on tiptoes and gives him a kiss. She feels confident about it: she had seen couples of various species on Jakku press their mouths—or alien equivalents of mouths—together as a sign of affection. Surely that’s an appropriate way to greet a man she’ll marry someday soon.

 

His lips are even softer than she expected. Rey rocks back on her heels and peers up at him.

 

Kylo’s mouth is still frozen in a harsh line, but his eyes are a bit wider and she thinks she sees the start of blush begin to redden his cheeks.

 

“I missed you, Ben,” she says, low so only he can hear.

 

His voice is hoarse when he finally lets out a simple, “Rey.”

 

The tiny peck also leaves the troops flanking Kylo shaken. Their helmeted heads turn visors towards each other in silent question.

 

Kylo releases her from her stun cuffs with a gesture and press of the Force. Rey rubs feeling back into her wrists. Before she can drop her hands to her sides, he catches them in his and interlaces their fingers. His gloves are too soft and too slippery and too unlike the hands beneath them.

 

It seems that extending her hand at first might have been the right choice after all. Her lips are still tingling from the kiss, though, so she doesn’t regret it.

 

Rey pulls one hand from Kylo’s grip. His brow wrinkles, but she is undeterred from reaching over to where her other hand is resting in his and removing his glove. The tension in his face eases as she takes the other one off before proceeding to drop them both where the stun cuffs had fallen.

 

Satisfied, Rey rests her hands back in his.

 

She knows that she should be acting more affronted by this situation. It might somehow get back to the Resistance how comfortable she was interacting with the warlord through a spy in the First Order’s ranks. But the spaces between his fingers are right where hers fit perfectly.

 

An officer that had been standing behind Kylo steps forward and begins reading off of a holo. Rey stares at her.

 

As in the dark as she had been about being affianced, General Organa had at least run her through some basics of what a marital ceremony would entail. One of those things were rites read off by an officiant. The words “union” and “matrimony” and the like sound far too similar to what she had described.

 

Her gaze snaps back to Kylo as it finally hits her. They’re getting married right now. Now, after she’s been on the ship for all of two minutes.

 

Kylo’s lips twitch in an almost-smile and he squeezes her hands.

 

Rey can’t say that she’s disappointed at this turn of events. She’d expected him to heavily publicize their union in order to intimidate the Resistance and impress the galaxy at his conquest of the last Jedi.

 

When she kisses Kylo again, he leans down to accommodate her.

 

The next part Rey thinks she knows. The lead-up and execution of marriage she’s unsure of, but she knows about consummation. She’d witnessed that back home more than kissing. Couples tended to try and find the coolest part of ships in the starship graveyard in order to bed down, which were also the places that a younger Rey tended to scavenge before she knew better. A few years later she found a holodisc that turned out to be someone’s personal collection of porn.

 

Rey anticipates seeing Kylo Ren made vulnerable in front of her again. More flesh exposed than she had seen on his bare chest and arms.

 

All those expectations considered, Rey is left confused when her wedding night sees her lying in bed and staring at his upper back, counting freckles and moles and visible vertebrae. Any given member of the Resistance save for perhaps his mother would be rooting for her to literally stab him in the back right about now. There aren’t any weapons in the room for her to use even if she wanted to; his lightsaber has been locked away and the broken pieces of hers hardly present a threat.

 

Kylo heaves a sigh and his broad torso expands to appear even broader. The desire that had been cooling in Rey’s belly heats back up in an instant.

 

She shifts, trying to tear her attention away from Kylo. He’s not interested and she needs to allow her hurt to outweigh her arousal.

 

This room is empty save for the bed and a chair and a desk. Even knowing there’s a bit more to the room—a closet and another room with a ’fresher—it feels like a prison. Everything is black.

 

Rey wonders if he’ll object to having a plant in here. She’d even be content with an artificial one.

 

There’s a hint of melted durasteel in the air, but Rey can’t figure out where it’s coming from. If he’d damaged something with his lightsaber, it’s already been repaired.

 

She glances back at Kylo. No matter how much she tries to distract herself, he’s the most catching aspect of the room, by far.

 

Rey shifts again, squeezing her inner thighs together. She shoves her face against her pillow.

 

The bed is more cushiony than any other surface she’s ever touched, much less tried to sleep on. She doesn’t know how Kylo’s bulk hasn’t been swallowed up by the pliant mattress. The one aspect of the bed that she likes is the duvet that keeps most of the chill of the Star Destroyer at bay.

 

She’s tempted to wrap herself up in it, but then Kylo definitely won’t be interested in her then. It would be better to take layers off rather than put more on.

 

Rey strips off the thin tank she’d left on when they’d gone to bed and pitches it over Kylo so that he’ll see it fall to the floor.

 

Nothing.

 

He wants her just as much as she wants him. She can feel his arousal pulsing in time with her throbbing cunt. So why is he holding back?

 

Rey throws one arm over his side and presses her breasts to his shoulder blades, prompting a hard intake of breath from Kylo. His heartbeat thuds rapid beneath her hand. She hears him swallow as she snuggles her face against the side of his neck. His thick hair tickles her nose.

 

More nothing.

 

She would rather he react negatively than not at all.

 

Rey rubs her crotch against the back of his thigh as she spoons him, sure that the even stronger heat pulsing there will seep through the thin bit of fabric separating him from her. She finds his earlobe buried beneath a shock of hair and starts licking and nibbling. Her fingers grope for one of his nipples to tease at, then slide down his side.

 

Kylo pants through his nose. She can feel his labored breathing and trembling in his belly as her hand approaches his crotch, as if he’s about to bolt.

 

That’s something, at least.

 

“Are you okay?” Rey asks, pausing.

 

“Your hands are cold.”

 

Rey slumps in defeat against his back and lets her arm go limp. She had been copying the moves she’d seen a Dathomirian do in one of the many pornos on the holodisc she found on Jakku. By this time the human she was seducing was all over her, but this approach doesn’t seem to be getting Rey anywhere.

 

Rey disentangles herself from around Kylo and takes her underwear off, tired of having her wet, swollen pussy covered up. It gets tossed in the same direction as her shirt.

 

Then she tugs on his side with all her strength and a bit of the Force in order to get him to roll on his back. He stares at her with his lips parted as she mounts his abdomen, places both hands on his chest, and leans forward so that they’re nose to nose. His abs clench beneath the moist heat of her cunt and his pectorals heave with each breath against her hands.

 

“After how quickly you wanted to marry me,” she says, “I thought that you would want to have sex right away.”

 

Despite the close distance, Kylo tries to avert his gaze. When he fails, he squeezes his eyes shut instead.

 

“You thought wrong. I wanted you married to me to decrease the Resistance’s morale. To make them lose hope knowing that their precious Jedi was with the First Order,” he says. “That’s all.”

 

It sounds like a line he’d probably used to convince his higher-ups of his plan to have her.

 

“Don’t lie. If that was the case, you would have thrown me in a cell instead of letting me in your bed.”

 

“It felt like the thing to do. I regret it now.” He opens his eyes again, brown irises looking like dried blood, and bares his teeth in a snarl. “Stop testing me, Rey, or I might take you up on that suggestion of throwing you in a cell.”

 

His anger is contagious.

 

“Being imprisoned might turn out to be more exciting than having you ignore me coming on to you,” Rey snaps, the hand on his chest curling.

 

Maybe this would be easier if they were in that time before. When the bond hadn’t connected their minds across space and she hadn’t grown to realize that he was pitiful and lonely, just like her. Then she would come at him through lightsaber dueling and mind probes and any desire for sex would be buried deep under a layer of confusion and shame.

 

But it’s the present and Rey has long since admitted to herself how much she loves him and wants him, so his rejection hurts.

 

Kylo sits up. She slides off of where she’d perched herself on his belly and lands in his lap, fingers falling loose over the line of his scar on his neck and chest.

 

Rey had purposefully avoided his crotch before, mostly out of fear of the unknown. Kylo was built differently than her, of course, but they share basic human characteristics. This is new, even more so than she first anticipated.

 

Her first thought is that at least he’s physically aroused despite his apparent disgust with her. The second is that it feels weird.

 

There’s a definite something bulging up against her ass, but it doesn’t feel like what she’d imagined a hard penis to feel like, not even one with clothes between her and it. She swears it’s squirming. Rey doesn’t get a chance to examine the sensation further, as she’s bowled off of him when he pushes her.

 

She bounces back onto the too-soft mattress at his side before sitting up on her elbows. Kylo reaches into his loose pants and adjusts himself with a low, animal groan. Despite his presumed attempt to hide it, there’s no way to fully disguise the massive bulge between his legs short of pulling the duvet over it, which he does when he catches her staring.

 

“What’s wrong?” Rey asks, keeping her hands locked together in her lap to keep herself from reaching for him again; her sex throbs and aches beneath them.

 

“Me. I’m wrong. You don’t want that with me, Rey.”

 

It’s unlike him to keep secrets. After all, he was eager for her to know the truth—or at least what he perceived to be the truth—about Luke nearly murdering him. This must be different, but she has no idea how extreme it is since he’s always so prone to dramatics. Is he diseased or simply strange-looking there?

 

“What is it really?”

 

She doesn’t get an answer. He lays down so that his back is facing her again.

 

The next few days are more of the same. All of her attempts to seduce him are met with either being snubbed or outright scorn.

 

In between the attempts that the First Order makes to brainwash her into believing their ideology with “educational material” that even a Jakkuvian scavenger with no formal education can tell is blatant propaganda and what little training she is allowed to do, she tries in vain to hit on her husband.

 

Both extremes of the spectrum when it comes to trying to get his attention verbally—subtle flirting and dirty talk—don’t work. Clearly he’s already evidenced he doesn’t enjoy her attempts to please him with illicit touching. She thinks she manages to get his attention once with a low-cut black shirt, but he quickly pulls his eyes away. The nicest thing he does for her is agreeing to have a Nightbloomer in his—or, well, she supposes it belongs to both of them, now—bedroom. But that hardly makes up for being so obtuse about not wanting to be intimate with her.

 

Rey tries both courting rituals that she’d seen on Jakku—presenting him with the nicest piece of salvage she could find, taken from a broken-down TIE in the main hangar—and the more universal ones she’d learned from her short time with the Resistance, like sharing meals and writing very bad poetry for him and cuddling. She’d never seen anyone do that last thing back home, not once, probably due to the heat.

 

At worst Kylo tolerates her attempts and at best he smiles at them. He even lets her kiss him, but that almost makes it worse. Tasting his mouth and being in his arms just makes her want more. The lack of clear boundaries and the mixed signals he’s sending her make her confused and hornier than ever. The whatever-it-is continues to writhe and bulge between his legs so she has to presume the latter applies to him, too, but he refuses to act on it.

 

Rey gets so sexually frustrated that she resorts to masturbating while she’s laying in bed beside him in the middle of the night. She’s being as quiet as she possibly can, teeth sinking into her wrist and movements with the hand on her pussy short and quick. It would probably have been more practical to get off in the ’fresher as she’s been doing up until this point, but she figures she can get it over with in just a few minutes and then go back to sleep.

 

After a particularly rough, wet rub to her hard clit using her middle digit, she orgasms with a keen, back arching. Rey goes limp and shuts her eyes.

 

It figures that the one time she’s not actively trying to interest Kylo, she interests him.

 

“Stars. I can smell you,” Kylo announces seconds before pinning her under his huge body and pressing his soft mouth to her neck.

 

Rey squeaks in surprise but only freezes up for a moment before throwing her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, determined to keep him there. He suckles hard at her racing pulse, then lowers his face to the tops of her breasts and does the same to each. He grinds their crotches together for a second, his clothed one on her bare, hairy cunt, before he stops moving his hips. The thing between his legs keeps moving, lapping against the barrier.

 

Kylo presses the ridge of his nose to her sternum, burying his face between her breasts. Then he gets very still, panting against her chest, hands cupping the underside of each tit in a loose grip.

 

Rey strokes his hair for a long moment before asking, “Ben?”

 

“I need to have more self-control,” he murmurs.

 

“Please don’t.”

 

She thought she’d been wet before, but this sudden burst of physical affection has her pussy gushing. There’s a mess of her juices between her thighs and staining his pants.

 

“I just need to show you,” Kylo tips his face up to look at her, “so you’ll understand.”

 

Reluctant, Rey lets her arms and legs fall from him. Even more reluctant, Kylo gets up on his knees. Rey props herself up on her pillow and the headboard to get a good view as he frees the slithering, pulsing something from the confines of his pants.

 

Rey’s first thought is really stupid. Well, her brain dimly concludes, at least part of the rumors the Resistance have about him are true.

 

Rey’s second thought is that his dick—because that’s what it must be, even if it doesn’t look like the ones on the human males in the porn she’d watched—resembles the body parts she’d seen attached to some of the sea creatures swimming around the murk in the water on Ahch-To. Tentacle-like.

 

The third is that it doesn’t match his skin tone at all, closer to his hair. It’s blacker than space and glossy like oil, standing out against the pale skin of his upper thighs and belly. Were it not for the way it moved, seeking, bestial, hypnotic, Rey might think it a glorified sex toy.

 

Rey knows she’s probably meant to be repulsed, based on how long Kylo hid it from her. She isn’t. Perhaps it’s simple desperation, but her clit throbs like mad.

 

Kylo looks at her, gauging her reaction, then down at himself. “I thought I would be able to make you resent me so much that you’d never see this.”

 

Short of trying to interrogate her again or chopping her hand off or killing one of her friends, Rey wasn’t sure that there was a way for him to make her resent him again.

 

“You don’t need to protect me from yourself, Ben. Besides,” she says, tone light, “I’m your wife. I was bound to find out eventually.”

 

“Don’t act like it’s nothing. It’s disgusting,” Kylo says, tugging at his tentacular cock with a sharp jerk.

 

Rey winces at how harsh the motion is. “How did it happen?”

 

“The dark side of the Force has a habit of twisting the bodies of its users.” He lets go of himself for only a moment to take off his pants, then spreads his legs and resumes touching himself. “It usually manifests in dramatic distortions.”

 

If that’s the case, it’s no wonder Snoke’s body caved in the way that it did. Rey keeps the thought to herself for fear of killing Kylo’s arousal with the mention of his master.

 

“One of my side-effects,” Kylo goes on, “is having my dick turn into something even most aliens would find off-putting.”

 

Just one?

 

His genitalia continues to move with languid squirms from side to side as it swells bigger and bigger in his fist. Kylo tilts his head back, throat bobbing. His fingers are forced to spread apart as his dick grows. When his fingers stop working at it for a moment, it’s thicker around at the base than his wrist and liquid drips from its pointed tip, viscous and clear as saliva.

 

He shows her all of this as if he expects her to throw herself out of an airlock upon learning it.

 

“Ben,” she tells him, “you could have razor-sharp teeth down there for all I’m concerned. I’d still want you.”

 

Kylo shakes his head. He keeps tugging at his alien genitalia as if with the intent to harm himself. Rey can’t stand to just keep watching him do it.

 

She scooches forward on her knees and reaches out to encircle her hand around it. There’s plenty of room despite Kylo’s hand taking up space. Its texture feels a bit like her labia, but it’s oddly cold. And to think he’d been complaining about the coldness of her hands before.

 

Kylo starts when she touches him and looks down at her with his mouth hanging open. His hand drops to his thigh, limp.

 

Rey circles both of her hands around his dick and isn’t able to span the full of it even with her fingers spread. The thrashing motions increase at her touch and Kylo groans in turn.

 

“What did you think I’d do, exactly?” Rey asks as she pulls her hands back and forth from the pointed tip to the fat base. “Scream? Run away? Tell all your soldiers you’ve got a really flexible dick?”

 

Kylo shakes his head, teeth grit, and anchors one hand on her shoulder and the other in her hair. His hips rock into her touch, mindless.

 

“No,” he chokes out, then reconsiders, looking away: “Maybe. But you don’t know the worst of it yet.”

 

“The worst?” She lets saliva pool on her tongue for a moment, then dribbles it between her lips and down onto his cock.

 

He jerks his hips, hard, when she gives him a saliva-slicked stroke, then smiles grimly down at her. “The worst is that if you keep touching me like that, I’m going to get my eggs all over your face.”

 

Rey pauses. “Like… bird eggs or…”

 

Ripper-raptors’ eggs are about all that she has as a frame of reference and she has difficulty picturing any coming from this source.

 

“What? No. How would that even—” He grunts when she gives his dick another gentle squeeze. “They’re more ichthyic.”

 

She has absolutely no idea what that means but it would probably ruin the moment if she asked. She isn’t sure she trusts his warning after he’d been so difficult about letting her see something that, as far as she can tell, is harmless, but then again…

 

Kylo lets go of her shoulder and hair, no doubt in anticipation of this being the thing that drives her away. Rey also lets go of his dick and turns away, then, but not for the reason he thinks. She grabs the headboard and presents her ass and sopping cunt to him.

 

She looks over her shoulder when he doesn’t take the hint. “It sounds like it’d be a waste to get them on my face.”

 

“It’s a waste either way, you can’t carry them to term.”

 

Despite his dour tone, Kylo smooths a hand over her ass and Rey can feel the mattress dipping as he moves closer. She shivers in anticipation and moves her ass from side to side.

 

He parts her juicy labia with his forefinger and thumb. “You really want this, don’t you?”

 

Rey leans her head against the pillow. “I told you, I want you, Ben. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing you say that.”

 

The tip of tentacle licks at her pussy like a second tongue before slipping inside of her. The melting heat of Rey’s pussy clenches against the icy intrusion, but she’s forced to loosen up as the thickness of it increases. The contrasting temperatures between her body and his are strange but not unpleasant. The stretch is so gradual and smooth that Rey only feels slight twinges of pain. Mostly she feels full, deliciously so. She can feel him moving inside her and it’s so, so weird. The swollen thing is crushed up against all her vaginal walls, then her cervix, then the remainder outside rubs against the hard nub of her clit.

 

“Rey?” Kylo asks as he braces himself over her.

 

“Beeeen,” she slurs back with only a bit of exaggeration, feeling on the brink of orgasm again already.

 

Those initial sensations are nothing compared to when he starts moving. The wet, gushing sounds alone are obscene, never mind the way the writhing organ continues to stimulate multiple areas at once.

 

Rey doesn't even begin to try to disguise her pleasure, crying out loud enough that even the durasteel walls probably don't deafen the sound. She's far past the point of embarrassment about that.

 

She manages to string together phrases to praise him at first, but in a matter of minutes they break down into simple words, then noises, then his name. 

 

Rey comes criminally quickly, already more than prepared thanks to touching herself beforehand. Knowing that that had helped makes it no less enjoyable.

 

Kylo doesn't last long, either, overwhelmed, she suspects, by how accepting she'd been of his unusual anatomy. Rey doesn't mind, as even when he can't last he's managed to make her come. Even at this moment she anticipates the future where he'll have better control of himself. 

 

For now, him being completely out of control and her being the cause is more than satisfying.

 

His roar to announce his climax is coupled with a particularly deep slam inside of Rey. It has her seeing white, toes curling, eyes rolling, all the heavenly sensations she'd wanted so badly to get from him and had started to become convinced she'd never receive.

  
Rey already felt full thanks to Kylo’s dick, but impossibly she gets fuller. Surely he can't be getting even bigger? Her mind is sluggish in its orgasmic haze, but it occurs to her as her womb swells that she’s being filled up with the eggs he’d mentioned. Much like everything else about the situation, it should not be as hot as it is.

 

They just keep coming and coming, gelatinous and round, making her flat abdomen bulge outward. How long had it been since he’d last released? Too long, in all probability, given his self-hatred.

 

Rey comes again as Kylo withdraws, cunt spasming. She falls forward onto her front, prompting Kylo to call out her name with worry that’s unwarranted but endearing. She rolls over to take the pressure off of her aching belly and to kiss him.

 

“You really didn’t think that was gross?” He asks, leaning his forehead against hers.

 

“Maybe a little,” Rey admits. “Still want to do it again.”

 

For the first time, husband and wife sleep cuddled close together in the nude, comfortable with the intimacy. They’re an absolute mess of bodily fluids but too exhausted to care. Rey looks forward to cleaning up in the ’fresher with him the next morning and exploring each other further. She needs to make up for lost time since their wedding night.


End file.
